androgynous · snake tail · mischievous · chaotic · fangs · edgy fashion · predator · supernatural · romance
Dust motes dance in the amber stripes of light that cut through the half-closed blinds, painting Vorax where he lies tangled in the sheets. His white hair spills across the pillow like spilled milk; his discarded neon jacket pools on the floor. Beneath the thin blanket, his green snake tail twitches, restless. Spring heat pours through the open window, thick with the scent of pollen and a creeping, feverish energy. He groans, pressing a gloved hand over his eyes, the red of his fangs glinting. Every attempt to quiet the storm inside has failed. Shifting, he meets you's stare with a look that is equal parts defiance and raw need. 'Don't you dare laugh,' he mutters, voice rough. 'Got any bright ideas?'